My Daughter Came Home from School in Tears Every Day – So I Put a Recorder in Her Backpack, and What I Heard Made My Blood Run Cold

It was ordinary, comforting even. For a moment, I almost believed I’d been imagining it all.

Then I heard a woman’s voice. Sharp, impatient, and cold.

“Lily, stop talking and look at your paper.”

I paused the recording.

My hand was already shaking. That voice didn’t belong to Ms. Peterson.Continue reading…